


Switch it up

by Lalelilolu



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Awkward, F/M, Grocery Shopping, SanSan Russian Roulette, Sansan Russian Roulette 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 13:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16409102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalelilolu/pseuds/Lalelilolu
Summary: “standing behind each other in line at the supermarket and they accidentally take each other’s groceries. You can tell a lot about a person by their grocery choices…”





	1. Sansa

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cecilia1204](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cecilia1204/gifts).



> I know it is late but better late than never, here is the prompt from [@queenoferebor1204](http://queenoferebor1204.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I changed it a little bit, I hope you like it :)
> 
> Special thanks to [SnowWhiteKnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/pseuds/SnowWhiteKnight) for editing!

Sansa’s teeth were clattering as she fished her keys out of her back pocket to unlock her front door.  Finally at home from her shopping tour, she was ready to tackle her load of studying for the end of the semester, equipped with all her favourite sweets including her beloved chocolate chip cookies. Nothing could stop her from acing those exams now.

Well, as long as it was nothing unexpected happened like finding lots of meat and protein powder under her cookies in her grocery bag. Now that she looked at it closer in confusion, it seemed like it actually wasn’t her bag. Not at all. Sure, it was the same colour but it looked more worn out than her own.

Someone must have taken her bag while she was on the toilet in the store and she took the one of a stranger. Of course it had to happen to her. The first and only time she ever used those damn restrooms at the store, something like that had to happen.

Sansa Stark was fuc- in trouble. She knew she had put her porte-monnaie in her bag, and she had to get it back immediately or have her bank account locked.

Slightly panicked, she emptied the bag’s contents on her kitchen table and frantically searched the pile of meat and vegetables for anything that could help her tracking down her own bag down.

She spotted a wallet almost immediately, relieved she opened it and saw an ID.

Tracing the picture with her eyes she gasped.

A man with storm grey eyes and jet black hair stared back at her; half of the his face was marred with scars. It seemed that his left side had been completely burnt once.

It was kind of grotesque. She could even make out scars that clearly didn’t belong to the injury, they weren’t mangled and didn’t have the same angry red colour. It looked more like they originated from a plastic surgery or something similar gone wrong.

Tearing her eyes away from his face and the mess of his scars she began to check his personal data. “Sandor Clegane” she read out loud.

_What an unusual name. Sounds European._

It appeared he didn’t live too far away from her. Typing his address into her phone to double check it, she saw that he indeed lived at the other end of the city.

Sansa didn’t know why, but she began to search his wallet  further for - yes, for what? She had everything she needed to give him his groceries back, helping at least one person out of his misery, even if it didn’t guarantee her to get her porte-monnaie back. She just hoped it was a easy switch up.

She still went through it, hoping to find out more about the scarred stranger, who had caught her curiosity; even though she wouldn’t admit it to herself. Yet.

Maybe it was his angry looking eyes, maybe it was the scarring, but somehow he drew her in.

Tucked behind 20 bucks and a condom wrapper was a crisp white business card. It read:

Sandor Clegane

SECURITY FOR COMPANIES

Underneath that were a phone number and a business email address.

_“This is the automated response of Sandor Clegane. He is unavailable at the moment. Please leave your message after the signal.”_

Sansa cursed under her breath. Of course he wouldn’t answer her call, that would by far too good and easy. Nothing was easy anymore since that bastard Joffrey. Maybe she didn’t deserve easy anymore. Arya had said so once.

Nonetheless she still left him a message. “Hello, this is Sansa Stark and it seems that I accidently took your grocery bag home instead of my own by accident. I found your wallet and wanted to ask when I can give you your stuff back. … I’m very sorry about my mistake and I wanted to ask if you maybe took my bag?”

She asked him to call her back and left her phone number.

Tucking the ID and the business card back into the black leather wallet, Sansa looked at the pile of meat, protein powder, dog food and a bottle of red, translucent liquid, that looked like it must have been expensive.

Sansa sighed, defeated. What a great fucking day. Sometimes, she hated her life. At least the woman on the phone, who helped her with ordering a new credit card, and made sure no one could use her old one, was fairly nice.


	2. Sandor

He was freezing his balls off. He hated the winter. It was always so fucking cold. The worst part about that was trying to find suitable clothing that fit him, which was an impossible given his size and build.

Summer was no fucking better. He hated that, too. It was made his scars itchy, and on especially hot days, the skin was so irritated that it started oozing. The only plus about summer was that he could wear his sunglasses, that partially hid the scars.

No, actually, fuck all that. Sandor Clegane hated life.

Opening his front door, his black dog Stranger came running towards him, greeting him with his wagging tail. Stranger was his most loyal companion by far.

He sighed.

He was looking forward to the evening on his old, worn out couch, with a good chunk of seared meat, a beer or two, and his guilty pleasure: chocolate chip cookies.

Scratching the dog’s head, Sandor went into his kitchen to unload his groceries. All he wanted was to relax after having to deal with uppity and arrogant clients all day. He couldn’t understand them, if they already “knew” what was good to make their company safe, why did they even seek out his help?

Of course he knew why, they only wanted to hear that the cheapest option was the best from a professional. Bullshit. Everything.

He dumped the contents of his bag on the table to start to put them away. But then halted. He was sure he didn’t put anything fucking pink in there. Or the cookbook “Cooking healthy” or 5 packages of gummy bears. Or fucking tampons. He was really fucking sure that he didn’t buy those.

Only the cookies. Those were his, or were they? He hadn’t bought five packages. Only one. He found it hard enough already to stick to his strict diet. Looking again, he saw that not even the bag was his.

Fuck.

From bad to worse.

He searched the groceries, if you could call junk food and sweets groceries, Sandor was sure that absolutely no one could (or should) live off that, for anything hinting to the owner of the bag.

If the feminine hygiene products were a clue it would have to be a woman.

Sandor finally spotted a large, pink wallet. What the heck do women need those large wallets for anyway? For a practical man like himself, they seemed like an unnecessary waste of space.

Rummaging through it, he spotted an ID. From worse to horrendous. She was gorgeous.

Bronn would piss himself laughing at him; he’d have to make sure that no one heard of that. Bronn would never let him forget about this otherwise.

He was staring at deep blue eyes, blue like the skies. In between those eyes was the cutest nose sprinkled with freckles. Her pale face was framed by a deep red mane of hair, it reminded him of fire. He flinched a little at that thought and had to remind himself that this fire wouldn’t be able to hurt him. How did that pale-faced, blue-eyed, red-haired girl; no way she was older than 18, manage to look good on the photo on an ID?

Feeling like a predator, Sandor checked her birthdate. 24. Thank the seven Gods.

Now that he had the girl’s name he somehow had to find out how to give her her “groceries” back. Maybe she even had his. He hesitated, what if she thought he was a creep, who took her bag on purpose? He rubbed his face with his palms. He really was fucked. Why did the world hate him? Maybe he was lucky and this  _ Sansa Stark _ (Gods, even her name was beautiful) had Facebook and he could contact her through his company's Facebook page. 

With that thought in his mind he began searching for his phone, to see if he had  _ any _ luck today. But, of course, his battery had died, just like his idea of an uneventful, relaxing evening. Plugging his phone in, he pondered on what to what to eat. He hoped that whoever had his groceries put then into the fridge. That beef filet had been expensive, even with the 20 % discount. Maybe he was lucky and that Stark girl had his bag. It would make a lot of things easier for him.

He decided to settle for a meal that seemed to be rice and vegetables, it looked like he had put it in the freezer months ago, but other than that he didn’t really have a choice.

Sighing, he put it in his microwave and glanced at the plugged phone. The notification light was blinking. It probably was just another customer complaining about security costs and they probably wanted to lower the prices, too just to later bitch about their company not being secure enough. It was always the same fucking thing.

He didn’t know why but he still looked what it was. To his surprise, he had a missed call. Well, that wasn’t really the surprise but that it was an unknown number and that there was a message in his inbox.

_ “Hello, this is Sansa Stark...” _

His heart started to pound very hard, even her voice was sweet, like honey. 

_ “...to ask when I can give you your stuff back.” _

There was a long pause and he wondered if that was the end of the message.

_ “I’m very sorry about my mistake and I wanted to ask if you maybe took my bag?” _

The woman with the angelic face and the even more angelic voice then proceeded to give him her phone number.

He had an angel’s number. Maybe he would tell Bronn about the incident after all. If he left some things out, it wasn’t lying right? He didn’t do lying.


	3. Chapter 3

She stared at the wooden door in the modest apartment complex. The plaque on the right told her that  _ S. Clegane _ lived here.

_ It seems he lives alone. _

She was nervous, even though there was totally no need to it right? 

She was highly punctual as usual. She even arrived here early just to waste some time in her car, playing with her phone because she didn’t want to be overly punctual. Being early wasn’t polite and being late wasn’t either. Sometimes it was hard to have a mother like Catelyn Stark, that required punctuality and what she would describe as “ladylike behaviour” from her oldest daughter.

Swallowing the knot in her throat, she pressed the bell. Immediately a dog started barking behind the door.

_ So he  _ does _ own a dog. Maybe the dog likes Lady. _

Lost in her own thoughts she was startled when she saw a mountain of man in front of her.. She had to look up a bit, a thing not many men could accomplish as she herself was fairly tall.

And good Gods he was nicely built, her thoughts ran rampant, making her blush.

He did look like his picture, his eyes holding the same rage within them. His scars, however, looked less bad. It seemed that that picture was several years old. Or maybe it was the light, when he had it taken, that made them look so harsh.

“Hello, uhh, Miss Stark, thank you for coming over. Uhm, I have your bag right back in the kitchen. Wait a moment, please.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll just wait here then.”

It looked like he wanted to say something but seemingly decided against it, as he opened his mouth but closed it again. From where she was standing, Sansa could peek into his living room.

“Little Ladies don’t snoop, Sansa.” There was the voice of her mother again, but she didn’t care right now, she was really curious about this particular stranger. His size certainly was intimidating. His eyes were intriguing, now that she could see them in real life. 

_ Good Gods, what am I doing? Harboring a crush on a man I only know for five minutes…...he’s a hunk. _

It was not like her, but he…  _ He is different. _

She saw a black leather couch in front of a big TV. What else she could see looked rather sparse. There was no decor.

_ It lacks the touch of a woman. _

She felt bad for having a warm feeling spreading inside her chest.

Then there was a black flash. Suddenly, she found herself on her butt with something black and furry standing over her. It was a big, black dog, that obviously liked her, if she was to judge by the way he was greeting her, licking all over her face. And he obviously wasn’t supposed to be here.

Sansa could hear San- Clegane curse as he came running out of the flat, her shopping bag in one of his hands.

“Stranger. Heel,” he barked. Stranger though was not impressed by the tone his master used and continued licking Sansa’s face.

Sandor obviously grew frustrated and pulled the now pouting Stranger back by his collar with an apologetic face.

“Sorry ‘bout this,” he mumbled. “I had him locked in the kitchen but he escaped when I entered. He usually doesn’t take that well to strangers.”

“No problem, really. I have a dog, too. She’s a very enthusiastic one, though she lives with my family. I don’t have enough space for her.”

“Oh, uhh, nice.”

There was an awkward silence. Sansa began fidgeting with her sleeves until she remembered the purpose of being here.

“Oh, yeah, right, I have your bag right here,” she said as she went to pick up his grocery bag from the floor. It had fallen when Stranger had greeted her with so much vigor. 

“Thanks, here is yours. I hope you didn’t run out of … uhm .. supplies or anything.”

Sandor became were red suddenly and looked like he wanted to kick himself for having said anything. Sansa was confused for a moment, before she remembered that she bought tampons and he was certainly referring to them. Her face was beet red now.

“Fuck, sorry. I didn’t mean to say - fuck, sorry. Forget what I said,” Sandor huffed. He looked very flustered. 

_ He looks adorable when he’s like that. _

Sansa’s skin now had the colour of her hair.

“Well, thank you for taking care of my stuff. Goodbye,” she managed to mutter.

Sandor’s eyes twitched a little. “Yes. Goodbye,” he replied as he closed his door.

“Wait! Sandor!” Sansa cried when it was almost closed.

He pulled up a questioning eyebrow.

“Wouldyoulike - I mean would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime?”

His face morphed into a small smile, barely noticeable but it was there.

“Sure, yes. Of course.”

“I’ll call you.”

Sansa was sure he watched her, slightly baffled, as she walked down the floor to the stairs, her hips swaying and a slight spring in her steps.


End file.
